Finding Harry
by ynabolic
Summary: A tad bit AU where Harry disappeared for five years after the war. His return will be less than welcomed especially to some of the Weasley men. Harry/Fleur.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: First Harry Potter fanfic, still adjusting... By the way, this is a romance (almost purely at that) because I suck at writing adventure.

**Chapter 1**

Fleur squinted at the bright light coming from the overhead sun. Above her were hundreds of banners in different colors from bright red to a deep yellow, no doubt in honor of the Gryffindor house.

The Ministry truly outdid themselves in kowtowing to the Boy Who Lived. This whole set up was for Harry after all. Not that he didn't deserve it but she doubts that the young hero would appreciate such a grand showing. It wasn't in him to be boastful, unlike a certain red-haired friend.

Both Bill and her have already received their own medals for assisting during the Third Wizarding War and it was now prominently displayed on the mantle in the Burrow along with the other medals received by most of the Weasley children. In addition to a shiny new ornament, they were also given a certain amount as reward for assisting the savior of the Wizarding world.

Fleur, without hesitation, declined the funds while the rest of the Weasley's were grateful for it. She didn't know what to feel about that. It seemed wrong to accept such materialistic lagniappe from the very institution that slandered Harry in the months leading to the war. She knew that Harry actually laughed at them and flung the cash back, telling the Ministry to donate everything to restoration activities, which was very much like hi-

Her musings were interrupted by Bill who tugged on her hand, gesturing for her to move forward. Both of them, along with all those who survived the war were situated near the built stage. "I think that they overdid a tad bit on the decorations" Bill whispered to her ear.

"_Oui_" The wind blew hard and her hood was flung back simultaneously releasing her silvery hair, which rode the winds gently. Behind her, she could hear a collective inhalation of breath from the onlookers.

And beside her, Bill was momentarily struck silent. Fleur knew that despite his denials, Bill was still quite affected by her allure.

"Bill, _ve_ need to move now. _Ze_ crowd is getting more antsy..." She shied away when one rather weak-minded wizard tried to grab at her sleeve.

She yanked her arm away and fixed the man, who she now had a good look at, with a withering stare. Unfortunately, the pimply, bucktoothed coot was unaffected and was in fact, looking more interested.

Bill, waking from his stupor, quickly elbowed their way through the crowd. Meanwhile, Fleur threw her cloak over yet again to avoid further stimulating the crowd.

"Just in time" Bill looked back smiling "Look, the Minister just appeared." They took their seats near the rest of the Weasley clan and Hermione who was glaring resentfully at Ron who still sported a glazed look.

Fleur simply sighed and adjusted her robe tighter. She didn't know why all of them had to be here.

"Good morning to all of you" Kingsley started "as the new Minister of Magic, I am honored to be standing here and umm, presenting our savior ummm with this..." Flear thought that Shackerlbolt looked oddly constipated as he gestured towards the obscenely large trophy shaped as a lighting bolt.

As a previous crime fighting auror, the new minister could be feeling awkward and tired of all these excessive activities that ministry officials are coaxing up.

Yet, despite the rather lackluster speech, the applause was still deafening... as it should be. She clapped enthusiastically along with the Weasley family. In the corner of her eye, she saw a lanky boy stepping carefully on the stage. His shoulders hunched as if to ward off something bad.

Harry was the Boy Who Lived and with it came tremendous expectations from the sea of sycophants who he knew will turn their backs on him at their convenience.

The breeze blew again and Harry squinted as well and turned his eyes away. It just so happens that when he lifted his head, the first things that he saw were her eyes.

Fleur thinks for the hundredth time since meeting Harry that she has never seen a more beautiful and haunted green orbs as those on the Boy Who Lives. It was as if the eyes of an old man were transferred to his. They were very much like her Grand-père's who had seen the first war alongside the brutality and prejudice directed at his full-blooded Veela wife.

For a moment, his eyes widened before gentling as he took note of the hood over her head. Harry simultaneously sent a thought into her head as he turned back to the minister _'Sorry Fleur. Don't worry, I'll make it quick...'_

She was momentarily struck dumb by the sent thought. Those of Veela ancestry, being not completely of wizard or human descent had one of the most iron clad mental shields in the world. To be able to break through such a barrier implied two things; first, Harry is especially gifted at mind magic and second, her magic or Veela instincts trusted him enough that she didn't label his sent thoughts as a threat.

Either way, the ease in which he did it, without needing to stare directly at her eyes were impressive.

Fleur smiled wryly, wondering when Harry would stop amazing her.

At eighteen, he stood at an average height with signs of broadening shoulders. Still, signs of malnourishment was evident in the sharp edges of those same shoulder blades and elbows. He was currently wearing the usual drab black robes that English wizards were so fond of. Matched with scruffy boots and unkempt jet black hair, Harry looked like the typical laconic librarians you see in stuffy rooms. The fact that he saved the world almost singlehandedly elevated his status a tad bit. But still, sartorially, the whole look can be improved.

Beside her, Fleur saw Hermione trembling. The girl was biting her lip but her eyes were as calm as can be gazing at Harry on the stage. Those brown orbs that looked so dull a minute ago were now shining brightly as if the light reflected in a calm sea.

As expected, it was now the red-headed's turn to look angrily at her.

Fleur thought it was cute the first few times and even agreed with the general Weasley consensus that Hermione and Ron were compatible. But looking at them now, she can't help but feel that maybe they were wrong.

Ron seemed happy and jealous at the same time as he saw his best friend get rewarded with material gifts and adoration from the crowd.

_It must be hard being in a bigger shadow than your brothers._

Once the applause died down, they could see Harry turning to the crowd looking out shyly.

"Thank you. Thank you everyone for coming here. This was a pyrrhic victory for all of us and I hope to never see one again. I'm grateful to seeing all of you here and saddened to know that some of you are not here. I know that many of our friends, acquaintances, and even enemies..." Harry's voice carried to the farthest seats, the voice were those of a person coming into adulthood; deep but still contains some semblance of puberty.

The Boy Who Lived was young in form but so old in all other aspects.

"The wizarding world doesn't need another 'hero' nor should it want another _hero_...I hope to never see another _hero_ in my lifetime or the next" Harry's speech tapered off at the end. And all the onlookers were quite flabbergasted by his implications.

Majority of the crowd twittered in aghast, galvanized at what was announced. Some were even speculating that it was a malapropism on Harry's part on the word to say 'hero.' _Maybe he meant 'terror' or some other._ were the whispered reactions. _'Or maybe he just wants all the fame to himself'_, were the more acidic reactions.

But of course, those close to him knew differently.

Mrs. Weasley was crying in earnest now, much to the embarrassment of her sons while Hermione was biting her lip so hard that it would have drawn blood.

Fleur, like the rest of the Weasley's knew differently.

Harry meant exactly what he said.

A savior or hero will only be declared as such once they've conquered something; rising through adversary and some such. To elevate someone to the hero status also requires something very dark. After all, sunlight seems always brighter and more beautiful during dawn... after nighttime.

The clap at the end was hesitant but those coming from the front rows were loudest. Because only those actively involved in the war could understand Harry's perspective. And even then, maybe not even in his level.

In fairytale stories, heroes were oftentimes made due to their experiences but it was rare to be born as one. Harry was one of those born heroes from infancy to adulthood.

One could say that his very birth should have been seen as an ominous premonition of dark days to come. After all, such a great person could only be born to a purpose.

...

The after party was boisterous with maudlin theatrics from drunkards sprawled around the field. Fleur sighed, keeping the hood forward and tight. This environment was dangerous for Veelas.

After all, it relaxes the men's compunction. And she wasn't looking forward to getting mauled in the eve of Harry's speech. Fleur wondered where Bill was. When she was bumped by some random man, she knew that it was time to go. She wasn't a fan of the stench of sweat combined with alcohol as well.

Walking fast to the edge of the crowd towards the portkey center. She was about to reach the clearing when someone suddenly spun her around.

Fleur was already reaching for her wand when she came face to face with the man of the day. Harry Potter.

"Leaving early?" He was leaning casually by one of the trees and staring disinterestedly at the debauchery happening. "...not that I blame you. This isn't my cup of tea as well"

"Zen what are you still doing 'ere?" Fleur asked bewildered. She lifted the hood off her head and breathed deeply. It was refreshing to not be cooped in it.

"I can't leave yet. Not when most of those out there are too drunk to defend themselves. I'm afraid that...ummm _ça va chier des bulles_?"

Fleur smiled, it's always a pleasure to hear her own language from someone else even though the accent was horrendous, "The war's been over a long while, 'Arry, you don't need to be this wary of a little fun"

"Sorry, can't help it"

"Hmmm, always the 'ero are you not, 'Arry Potter?"

"Never that, Fleur"

"But that iz what they call you, _non_?"

"Nah, I'm just simply Harry" At this, he spread his hands outward as if to demonstrate.

And he certainly looked like simple Harry from what she could see. Average height, drab clothes, and a lanky posture until you reach his face and you see the stubborn jaw and the dangerous glint that will always stay within those green depths; the only color evident in the dark.

For all the Gryffindor posturing, Harry Potter looked very much like a Slytherin in this light.

"Non, never simple 'Arry"

"Maybe that's the problem..."

"Is it so bad? To be regarded as _special_?" Fleur raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Many would kill to be in your shoes"

"Oh, it does. Don't get me wrong. At first, it was great but after a while, it became tiring and you can never really live up to their expectations. More times than not, I'm hated"

"Then you should enjoy this celebration more now while it lasts..."

"Not sure about that, its better to lower expectations"

"That's a very sad way of looking at things, 'Arry"

"Why do you do that?" He straightened and Fleur belatedly realized that they were now the same height.

"What do you mean?"

"Call me by my full name all the time"

"Well, it iz your name, _oui_? Do you not like your name 'Arry Potter?"

"No, no, I like it. It's just weird, that's all"

"Is it?"

"Yes, because you mostly use my full name"

"Not as simply 'Arry, you mean?"

Harry nodded and gazed at her closely once again. Fleur has been subjected to many blatant admiring looks but Harry wasn't admiring her. He was simply looking at her in wonder.

As he tilted his head to the side with half of his face shrouded in darkness; she saw that he had the making of a beautiful profile.

"Come, let us talk more" Fleur gestured for him to go deeper in the forest.

"You're not planning on murdering me right?"

She laughed. "_Non_, I cannot murder my sister's savior after all that would only lead to badness on my part"

"What do you mean?"

"Veelas are still magical creatures, no matter how diluted their blood is. A veela will always be veela. And as such, we are more bound to magic than any creature practicing it. Any magical offense affects us tenfold."

"And so, what does that have to do with it?"

Fleur looked at Harry strangely. Did he not know about 'life debts'? "Do you not remember the second task, 'Arry?"

"The lake thing-"

She tutted and flipped her hair before explaining, "Yes, the 'lake thing' when you saved Garbrielle. When I kissed your cheek, it automatically translated into a life debt"

"So you're not only indebted to me but to Ron as well!? That's dangerous, Fleur!"

She was heartened to see his horror-filled expression, she'd be disgusted as well at the possibility. Fleur shook her head vehemently "Non, despite his claims, Ron was not the one who saved Gabrielle. It was you and my magic does not lie. It detected at once that my debt was to you" They've walked far enough that they reached the portkey station.

"But didn't you already assist me during the war? Surely, that negates the debt?"

"It doez not, magic works differently, 'Arry. It iz not equal"

"Hmmm" Harry taps his chin wonderingly and that's when Fleur noticed his long fingers, "How about I jump in the lake right now and you come save me? I promise not to move."

Fleur laughed until she noticed that he was actually serious, which in turn, made her laugh some more. "Do not worry about it, 'Arry. Someday, I will be able to repay you."

"But shouldn't the debt be Gabrielle's and not yours?"

She shook her head in negation yet again, "She was a minor at the time and I was responsible for her. Furthermore,the debt was not only that. Do you remember ze Astronomy Tower?"

"Yes, but you weren't there at the time. I only saw you afterwards"

"_Non_, I was there during ze latter part. I tried to stop Fenrir from attacking Bill and I turned my back on an enemy. You threw a spell at him, confuzing 'im enough zat the killing curz did not 'it me!"

Fleur saw him pause as if thinking about that moment. It was fresh in her mind but the fact that Harry had to think hard further proves how many lives he has actually saved. When the killing curse bounced on the wall, a few centimeters from her head. Her magic suddenly flared, quite reminiscent of the triwizard tournament. The magic signature that linked her debt was no doubt Harry's.

"Oh. I didn't know... ummm sorry about that... I mean about burdening you more" Harry almost looked embarrassed to being reminded of the event.

Fleur laughed again. It was like a conversation backwards, the hero apologizing for saving her life. "Why? It doez not matter. I am well az you can zee and will repay you fully one of zis days"

Harry stared at her for a long while before smiling somewhat mysteriously. "You might have a problem with that"

"Oh" A bit disoriented at his changed demeanor. "Why iz zat? Would you never need 'elp 'Arry?"

"Not the needing part but more of the proximity to me that'll be the problem"

"I... do not understand"

"Never you mind, just my sad attempt at being mysterious, hahaha" Harry's laugh seemed forced and for a moment, Fleur thought that he was tired of the conversation.

"You do not need zat, 'Arry" And its true, Fleur has never encountered a more byzantine person as Harry Potter. They should actually have a subject on this at magical schools; revealing the true Boy Who Lived. Even his past was mysterious. There were many speculations but the most popular was that Harry was raised in a mansion in a mysterious island being taught magic as he grew up. Cheesy but quite possible given his sudden boost in magical aptitude during the war. When she opened this to Bill during a rather bleak afternoon, he laughed and looked at her sadly saying that it was far from the truth. Bill never expounded on it though.

Fleur got distracted at her musings when Harry uttered, "But whatever happens, I've already written that debt off. Just wanted you to know that, Fleur"

"I do not underztand, 'Arry. What are you trying to say?" Fleur was getting a bit concerned at the direction of this conversation.

"Nothing... again, I'm just confusing you, heheh" He smiled but his gaze looked faraway "I'm just thinking way ahead of myself"

She nodded "It iz normal. You are now graduating from 'Ogwarts. It iz time to think of the future. Are you planning on becoming an Auror?" Everybody's been speculating on what the Boy Who Lived' career plans would be. It didn't help that Harry was a protean fighter, flyer, and even teacher. The options were endless for him. Not to mention that the Potter family was one of the oldest along with the Black's, both of which, he's now the heir to. And therefore, awarded two seats in Wizengamot.

Two ancient houses under the belt of the Boy Who Lived. The newspapers lapped it up and Witch Weekly even created an article for him post-war declaring Harry to be the most eligible bachelor of the century.

"Hmmm, not sure. I think there's more to life than fighting bad guys. And between you and me, I'm a bit tired of it" He said the last in a near conspiratorial whisper as if afraid that someone will hear him and make a big deal of it.

Given Harry's history with the press, Fleur wouldn't be surprised if it does end being blown up.

"By the way, I got your invitation. To the wedding, I mean" Harry's eyes smiled, Fleur noticed that he expressed more with those eyes than anything else "Best wishes, Bill is a great guy but if he does anything bad, I'm an owl away. Remember that"

"You sound az if you are leaving far away, 'Arry"

"Do I?"

"Oui"

"Hmmm, maybe I am... hahaha. Just joking..." The wry smile only further alerted Fleur.

"It doez not do to run. The war iz over, you can do what you've alwayz wanted, 'Arry."

"Do you really think that I'd be able to move that freely now?" He demanded. Those green eyes flashing hatefully and for a brief time, she was afraid.

Fleur doesn't know the answer to that so she remained silent. Harry is the Boy Who Lived and he was right to be wary because calls for the hero were coming in left and right at a fast speed. Each political faction vying for the Boy Who Lived' attention and support.

The war is over but that hardly meant peace in the Wizarding world. Now that the immediate danger (Voldemort) was done with, politicians are starting to make their move once again.

"From your silence, I'd assume that you don't know the answer to that either" Harry kept his hands inside his pockets sullenly, moving deeper in the shadows.

"You 'ave us to lean on."

"Hmmm" was the somewhat noncommittal reply.

"You understand zat right, 'Arry? You 'ave us, the Weasley's and the rest of ze Order" Fleur moved closer and touched his arm in support.

He smiled back at last, "I know"

They paused in awkward silence that Fleur almost started fidgeting. A sudden eruption startled both of them and they straightened up fast, instincts at hyper alert when they suddenly saw the shape of the lighting bolt scar and the simultaneous cheers from the drunken bunch.

"Idiots" Harry muttered underneath his breath. Fleur could only silently concur.

"I think I've delayed your escape enough. You were heading back to the Burrow, right?"

"Non, and you did not. I waz simply tired of ze entertainment" she nodded towards the rambunctious bunch "You more zan provided enough... and I am heading 'ome to France. Père et mère and Gabrielle mizzez me terribly and _Ils me manquent_ (I miss them) as well"

"Oh. Say hi to Gabby for me"

"I will" Fleur smiled "Are you leaving now, 'Arry?"

Harry paused long and stared at her hard "Yes"

"Where to?"

"Back home as well"

...

Back then, Fleur thought that he was either going back to the Burrow or the Grimmauld Place.

She was wrong.

Harry never came to her wedding nor did he come the year after during Sirius' death anniversary or any of the Weasley birthdays.

In fact, Harry Potter did not return to England for five years.

...

**End of Chapter 1**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, both the good and the smarting ones (still wincing) but criticisms are part of the learning process so I'll try to improve (hopefully) with each chapter.

Anyway, I've moved some of the dates around so it does seem confusing (cough cough, Fleur's wedding among others) um but I'll clarify it along the way with some flashbacks.

By the way, I am targeting a love story, a romance story so a lot of mushy stuff **will** pop up here and there. And by the way, Bill is not gonna be that well written here... so big fans of the pony-tailed (couldn't use Ponyboy, you know the reason) Weasley, beware.

**Chapter 2**

It was going to rain yet again today. The clouds were overcast and the breeze carried with it the slightest tinge of wetness. As a Veela and therefore, naturally averse to rain, Fleur would usually feel a tingle run down her spine before it pours. Not the good kind of shivers more of a diluted version of the tremor you get when a Dementor was close.

Propping her head languidly on her palm, she wondered for the 18,000th time why they were living so close to the sea. Shell Cottage for all its quaint charm was literally a stone's throw away from the ocean and during high tides, it came so close to their doorway that Fleur opted to stay at an Inn near Gringgots. Nevermind that it's supposedly impenetrable with the spells and charms protecting it, the nearness of such a vast body of water never failed to put her on edge.

She could still remember the terror it brought her a week after their honeymoon. As the ranging storm batted the small cottage through the night, Fleur was horrified to note come morning that the only thing separating them from the ocean was the magic surrounding the cottage. Once you stepped out, you'll be knee-deep in salty water from all sides!. Henceforth, she announced that it would be better for her to rent an apartment in town or stay at Grimmauld's place during the rainy season.

Furthermore, the environment seemed a little too isolated for her taste. Fleur's family home in France was big but the town proper was within walking distance. More importantly, it was as far from any large body of water as possible. Sure, they had a small lake within the estate but it was shallow and she was pretty sure that there were no Grindylows or Mermaids lurking at the bottom.

"I think it iz time to go to town now, Bill"

Fleur felt Bill slowly approaching her form and hugging her from behind to nuzzle in her ear. "Are you sure? it's just a light drizzle"

"Ze light drizzle has been repeating for two weeks now"

"But you're in England, love, there will always be rain"

"Zat iz okay as long as I do not zee the sea coming up the front door, non?"

Bill sighed. This has always been a point of contention between them."I noticed that you're moving your schedule earlier with each year"

"Quoi?" Looking behind her and raising her eyebrows inquisitively.

For a moment, with their faces so close to each other, Bill looked dazed but he recovered swiftly. "Don't think I didn't check. Last year, you went there around the first week of September and didn't come back until after Christmas!"

"It waz better to spend ze Holidayz in 'Arry's place. The floo network is better and faster and ze heating system iz more-" Fleur knew that she sounded whinny.

"I know, I know, don't worry. I'll upgrade the spell work here as soon as possible"

"It iz not zat Bill" She said a bit testily "Ze sea iz too cold during winter time. It iz not comfortable for Veela"

"Well, we can't use _Harry's place_ 6 months in a year!" the emphasis he placed on Harry name seemed out of sync

"Why? He allowed uz there Bill. He offered the place freely for use"

"No, he offered it to _you_ only"

"Iz that what zis is?" Again and again, this issue kept coming up. The letter Harry left specifically said that Fleur could use Grimmauld place during the colder seasons. At the time, Bill was somewhat mystified as to why she would need it, much to her chagrin because to her and the rest of her family in attendance, the reason was obvious.

"Yes! I mean, no- um let's not talk about this right now" Bill simultaneously scratched his nape-a telling sign that he was nervous.

"You were the one who brought it up" Fleur followed a bit sullenly.

When he stepped out, Fleur knew that he was going to the Burrow again. Now that Bill has expended all his adventurous side curse-breaking in Egypt and other exotic places, he now seemed homebound more and more. And homebound meant the Burrow. It was a pattern obvious to all the significant others of the Weasley brothers. At this, Fleur had to tip her platinum head to Mrs. Weasley for having such a tight grasp on all of her children.

Which oddly enough was made possible post-magical war. When she lost one of her children, Molly became almost obsessive in keeping tabs on all her children, eldest included.

For Fleur, it became difficult as well trying to contend with maternal instincts. And in contrast to Bill, her visits to the Burrow became scarce after Harry's disappearance. Further contributing to her decision to stay away was the youngest male Wealey's overweening attitude for the media, not to mention the youngest female Weasley's pugnacious approaches to every little thing she does from table arrangement to choice of clothing.

And Fleur knew that she has always been the best dressed person in that house!

She'd already tried to co-exist with them before. Not anymore. Her time was too precious to be spent convincing people that she was worthy of the eldest son. At least, that's what Harry advised...

...

Fleur didn't really know when the two of them started talking to each other, definitely not during the triwizard tournament. There were no big events that drew her closer to Harry besides the war. In point of fact, it was for that very reason that their friendship deepened because despite Harry's constant habit of saving people, Fleur's most auspicious memories of him were of the little things.

One such thing was a conversation before he set off to find the Horcruxes. She remembered staying at Grimmauld's place a certain weekend to avoid meeting up with any of the redheads in particular, and pleaded a headache to Bill. Ironically, they were the only tenants at that time and both of their moods were in sync; gloomy as they called it, as was often in those days. It seemed as if the very decor of the place was pressing down on them.

Fleur was depressed because the Weasley women couldn't seem to get past her Veela lineage. And Harry was depressed because... well, because he was Harry Potter.

That night, she heard banging downstairs and went to investigate. And there, in the kitchen, she saw Harry slaving away and trying to juggle multi... cooking? It was rare to see a wizard even in the kitchen much less doing something in front of a stove.

Fleur surreptitiously knocked on the side of the door frame to announce her presence. Harry's head whipped around in surprise. But the alarmed gaze quickly dissipated and merely confusion mingling with curiosity remained.

He squinted "Fleur?"

Oddly enough, even that seemed charming. Only Harry Potter would need to squint to know who she was. Other men or even women would've been instantly aware of her presence, oftentimes blasted by her allure preemptively.

"Oui" She answered softly, going to stand beside him. "What are you making?" Fleur looked at the counter and saw several slices of potatoes, carrots, onions, leeks, and some peas scattered around.

"Oh, uh, just a simple Shepherd's pie..." As he said this, Harry drizzled some olive oil in the deep pan and started seasoning the minced meat as he sautéed adding the onions and garlic along shortly after.

The scent of it made her salivate.

After a few seconds of silence, Harry's eyes started darting to hers; gliding every now and then to meet her eyes as if trying to assess why she was still standing there.

"I did not know zat you knew 'ow to cook, 'Arry" Just to make conversation. Fleur thought that she'd already reached the nadir today; no need to spend the rest of the evening being down.

He turned to her looking a tad bit embarrassed, "Yeah...um, well, you've already seen my relatives, right?"

"Yes," Fleur recalled one blob of fat, a bully, and one such horselike featured female that she almost asked whether she was another typology of the centaur variety.

"They always need something to munch on and Aunt Petunia's cooking is mediocre at best so when I'm out of school, I usually do um all the meals... and so I learned to do this" He waved his hand generally in the prep area "pretty early. Are you hungry?"

Fleur stared at him in wonder and almost forgot his last phrased question. The Weasley's alluded to it but since she never actually saw Harry's living conditions in the muggle world, Fleur wasn't sure if it was true. Though from various reactions of the Order members, she does think that there might be truth in it. And even speculation was easier to accept than truth.

"If it iz not a bother"

"Wha- of course not! Um, this is a shepherd's pie though so it's as english as you can get... but I'm a bit familiar with some french dishes, if you want" Harry was wielding a knife and chopping the potatoes like a chef as he said this. "I know that you prefer french style cooking"

She guessed it would be her somewhat abstemious eating during Weasley gatherings and her partiality to only eating french dishes during her stay at Hogwarts that made him think that she was averse to english kind. It's true that Fleur would still prefer french cuisines but she hardly thinks that's something to demand tonight.

"Non, it iz fine. Do you need my 'elp on anyzing?"

"No! I'm fine"

"Well, it iz better than just standing 'ere and waiting, 'Arry"

"... Um okay, could you grate some cheddar if you can? Oh and fire up the oven please"

"Okay" After setting the oven to the right temperature, Fleur happily started manually grating the block of cheese. Harry's look of surprise at her action made her smile amusedly. "Surprised?" she inquired, raising the bowl.

"Yes. I've noticed that most wizards who grew up knowing magic rarely wants to do things like the muggles, even Hermione is taking shortcuts these days"

"Ma famille iz different. Mère iz fond of cooking and both Gabrielle and moi likes to 'elp every now and then. It iz a good bonding time, non?"

"Is this a bonding time, Fleur?"

Harry looked so innocent and unsure of her answer at that moment that Fleur actually wanted to hug him. Instead, she merely whispered "Oui" She guessed that Harry was more like her than even he could imagine so any form of camaraderie not related to bloodshed was equally precious to him.

"Okay then. Well, if I can't treat you to a french main course, I might as well give you dessert. Are you up to some raspberry brûlée? its easy enough to do and we have the ingredients"

Fleur was surprised that he actually knew enough to make one. At her astonished look, he explained nonchalantly "The Dursley's love to throw dinners and likes to show off with foreign dishes; just made them look like a parvenu, in my take. But I liked doing something different every now and then"

"So why ze shepherd's pie?"

"Because it's comforting"

"And are you in need of it today?"

"Aren't you? You bolted pretty fast yesterday after dinner at the Burrow and I'm pretty sure that headache also disappeared once you've stepped out of the house"

"Did zey notice?" She asked aghast. Harry took his time answering, putting the dish in the oven first before replying.

"Pretty much. But I mean, you know how Mrs. Weasley and Ginny can be...sorry" Harry looked down as if not wanting to say it to her directly. And yes, Fleur knew how those two viragos can be. No doubt they started sneering right after when they saw her hasty escape.

"Do not apologize, 'Arry. You didn't 'ave any weight on their opinion, oui?"

"Yeah but still..." As if torn between staying loyal to his second family and defending her-his somewhat newly acquired friend.

She nodded in agreement to spare him from choosing. Fleur turned to wash the fruits to keep her hands busy while Harry whisked the cream and sugar professionally.

"Can I ask you a really blunt question, Fleur? Its up to you if you want to answer though"

"What iz it?" It was rare for Harry to actually deviate from small talk with. It's usually always about the weather, Gabrielle, french food... so if he does, it was usually something that's been bothering him deeply.

"Why are you putting up with it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, back in the tournament, you basically blew off anyone that even looked at you funny but now, you're... hmm what's the word? complacent"

"I am not complacent!"

"Well, you're certainly acting like it in front of them" He wasn't trying to be contentious. In fact, Harry actually looked more curious than accusing.

Nevertheless, she mewed in protest before trying to explain "It iz just... you need to get along wiz your second famille, non?"

"Well, yeah but if you're the only one extending an olive branch then it's a bit of a lost cause, right?"

Fleur digested the statement that she's been thinking all day long before asking hopefully "But zey could change their mind, oui?"

"Of course but do you really want to continue going about it this way?"

"Pas le choix (no choice)" she replied grudgingly.

"You've got a choice. I know that you're doing this for Bill but if its making you miserable then that'll only strain your relationship more."

"What will you do, zen?" She asked challengingly

"Nothing. Nothing at all. And by nothing, I mean I'd stop catering to their whims. I love Mrs. Weasley to death and Ginny is like the sister I never had but its not right... the way they're treating you. They should be well-adjusted by now. Their behavior can't be excused by 'getting used to it' crap, and anything other than that is just plain mean. In my opinion, you've done enough extending that it looks like a whole tree now. Bill will understand if you explain it and those two will find a new target in no time. You've put in enough effort in that part of your relationship"

She was about to contest it when Harry's next statement shut her up.

"...And truthfully, as a friend, it's a bit painful to watch"

They remained silent for several seconds after that damning statement. "It iz painful for me az well" she replied softly.

"I know. I'm not as oblivious as many people make me out to be. I can be aware of other people lots of times"

"And you are alwayz aware when I am wiz ze Weasley's?" Flear asked teasingly.

But Harry took the question to heart, "Yeah, it's the weirdest thing. Even when I'm surrounded by the brothers, I always feel that I'm on the outside and so I usually look for other outsiders"

"And you saw me... an outsider?" Fleur drooped shoulders must've alarmed Harry because he suddenly sprung up and went straight to one of the kitchen cabins.

"You know what? All these talk is just depressing us more. We need a drink and Sirius was kind enough to show me all the stash he hid in this kitchen" Harry knocked inside the cabinet four times in a distinctive tune before it opened revealing several bottles of alcohol. "What's you poison, Fleur?"

"Um, if it iz lamb meat zen it iz best wiz some red wine, non?"

"Right you are... I'm pretty useless when it comes to the higher ends of things in the kitchen. Wanna help select the brand"

And as someone who grew up as a sort of budding connoisseur as most french born and bred were, how could Fleur object to such an invitation?

Recalling it now, the Shepherd's pie was excellent. Better even that Mrs. Weasley's greasy fried chicken and soggy mashed potatoes. The crust was very crispy and the meat was tender with just the right amount of sauce; both colorful and flavorful. And the vintage wine she chose only added to it, much to Harry's surprise.

The dessert was eaten in the sitting room in front of the fireplace with some brewed coffee prepared of course, by Fleur.

"Ze englishmen could make tea but only ze french can make coffee" she announced cheerfully. Her mood already vastly improved with the dinner. Or it could be the sugar talking.

Reminiscing on it now still brought a new smile to her face. It's been so long since she had such a carefree and enjoyable dinner. Following Harry's suggestion, she talked to Bill right after, of her situation and the ever increasing melees between her and his sibling and mother. He was obviously disappointed but whether its of her or them she was still unsure to this day. Nonetheless, he agreed that it might be best to lay low because discussion about Fleur oftentimes ends with Bill trying to defend her as the two Weasley women threw invectives at his wife.

Unfortunately, it seemed that their opinion of her has never improved even now. The fact that she couldn't seem to get pregnant after five years only added fuel to the fire and also strained her relationship further with Bill.

...

Fleur stood up from her perch, stretching a bit and started heading to their bedroom to pack her usual winter clothes. Her mood already turning dark with thoughts of the future-a possible childless future.

**"That chit will never be up the spout"**

She winced remembering what she overheard a year ago. Both Bill and her stayed over the Burrow after another stiff family gathering and her offer of help to clear up the table was waved off. Fleur was heading down to ask Bill to walk with her when she heard that phrase.

**"That chit will never be up the spout"**

At the time, she thought they were talking about tea! How stupid it was for her to think like that. But the word 'chit' oftentimes referred to Fleur and add in Bill's booming voice and immediate protest only attested that they were in fact talking about her.

**"That chit will never be up the spout"**

Talking to fellow workers at Gringgots confirmed her suspicions. Mrs. Weasley thought that she'd never get pregnant. A slang turn of phrase never meant to be understood by others such as her.

It was enough to send Fleur crying for her Maman back home. To France for one month.

...

It wasn't that they didn't try. Bill and Fleur were sexually active enough in the first three years of their marriage, happily indulging in carnal activities... until they realized that she wasn't conceiving.

It was the oddest thing.

They've already consulted several healers but everyone was mystified as well. Other wizard purists even had the gall to suggest that it was because of her ancestry but was quickly crossed out because there has been several well documented medical reports of half- and even full Veelas getting pregnant with a wizard.

It's only Fleur that wasn't.

So desperate was she at that time that Fleur and her mother decided to consult a Veela healer.

She still remembered the incense burning on the side table and the healer that looked more birdlike than any other Veela she's encountered.

A violent wind blowing salty water to her lips momentarily startled her. She closed the bedroom window and continued to pack, a shiver going up her arms with goosebumps appearing as she sank back into the memories and the verdict on her problem.

"You will never get pregnant"

Those five words haunted her well past that visit and for a short time from the utterance, she wanted to scream like a banshee and throw fireballs at the healer when her mother pleaded to the healer of any possible way to cure it.

"Que pouvait-elle faire? (what could she do)?"

"Rien (nothing). Not with her current partner"

Fleur stood up in indignation, "How dare you! Bill haz no problems whatsoever!"

"It iz not you or him individually. It iz you and him togezer" The crow, as Fleur labelled her now, remained sangfroid amidst a raging quarter Veela.

"Why?"

"There is something that interferes... an ancient magic"

"Well, can you not do anyzing about it?" She demanded.

"Non"

"But what type of magic can do zis?"

"Old ones"

"You mentioned zat" Fleur spat back frustratedly "But how could we counter it? Ma Bill iz an experienced curse-breaker, he just needz to know what type it iz"

The crow woman laughed "Heh, I told you its old magic, don't assume that its some curse"

"This type of magic is malicious! of courze, it'z a curse!" Fleur was almost convinced that some random woman actually did this to her in a fit of jealousy. Maybe when her back was turned.

"Non"

"Then what type of magic iz it?"

"Go back to basics, ma chérie. What is the basics of magic? And keep in mind that as Veelas, we are more bound to it than normal wizards..."

Fleur stopped and stared hard at the wooden table. Falling back down on the cushioned seats to contemplate. Her Maman holding her hand tightly in support.

After seconds that turned to minutes, she lifted her eyes again to stare at similarly blue orbs of the crow healer before her. A seeming acknowledgement of the truth.

Fleur's answer was quietly uttered as if afraid some other person would hear it and condemn her. "Ze only magic or sorcery that could actually prevent me from conceiving all these years and so effectively iz my own"

"Correct, child"

"But... but I want to get pregnant! We've been wanting to for so long... It iz impossible!"

"Non, not for Veela. Veela are unique in that they live twice as long as normal wizards because it usually takes that long for them to find their mate and even then, many still have problems conceiving. It iz not your **wizard** magic and choice that prevents it, it iz your **Veela** magic"

"But that- I- I'm married to Bill! Shouldn't that be enough for my magic to acknowledge him as my chosen one?"

"Normally, it should. At most, you could have conceived at least once. Unfortunately, your Veela magic is almost a separate entity in that it supports and contests you. A paradox often seen as a burden and gift depending on the circumstance. Wizards have intuition but those of Veela descent also rely heavily on instincts-backed strongly by old magic" At Fleur's confused look, the healer explained "Veela potency is heightened during sexual intercourse and oftentimes that's when our magic is also the strongest. In a way, it acts as a sort of test on whether your partner is looking at you, Fleur or looking at the Veela at the height of fulfillment. If it perceives that it iz simply interested in the Veela then sometimes your magic repels and acts as a barrier..."

The implication was horrifying "You mean to tell me zat Bill is only interested in the Veela! Ma mari iz strong at repelling ze allure! I-"

"But not always surely and definitely, not the strongest"

"What are you talking about?"

"A Veela could still get pregnant even with a mate obsessed with the creature not the woman; it will just be difficult, but if your Veela magic also perceives that your Bill iz not the strongest its encountered, then it strengthens the barrier more."

"I do not understand..." And truthfully, she didn't. The only other person that could completely shrug off her allure was her Père and that was because of their blood-relation.

"So you do not recall anyone? Anyone at all that is not an immediate family that you've encountered... that your Veela side could consider to be a more compatible mate out there?"

"Non!" she shook her head, vehemently in denial. Her head bowed. Fleur couldn't recall anyone, not anyone!

Her mother's hands gripped hers once again making her turn her attention from the healer.

"Ma chérie, remember... what about 'Arry?"

"What?" She gasped.

"Who?" The crow healer inquired, shifting her attention from mother to daughter.

Fleur's mother hurried to explain "It iz 'Arry Potter, I 'ave never seen that high of a tolerance against Veela allure as him..."

The crow cackled with glee "The Boy Who Lived?! Now, this is just too good to be a coincidence. More of fate, likely than not, rearing its schadenfreude-sided face! Your magic is opposing because it perceived someone stronger against your Veela and wizard magic alike. And, unfortunately, it iz not your Bill"

"I do not believe zat Bill is weaker! He iz at ze top of his class graduating from 'Ogwarts and has been praised numerous times by employers to be ze best curse-breaker in all England if not ze world!"

"Oh?" the crow inquired somewhat meanly, "I've never heard of this Bill person but you are saying that he iz more powerful zan the Boy Who Lived?" At Fleur vehement nod, the crow continued her verbal assault "Maybe in skill at this time but in terms of magical core? Could you really say zat the savior of modern wizarding world is weaker than your curse-breaker?"

And Fleur really couldn't say anything in response to that.

"Child, I am not trying to be hurtful and even with this staggering decks against you... it iz still a mystery why you cannot conceive. Veela magic isn't so harsh as to deprive one of its own of children... there must be something else" At this, the crow extended a hand to touch her wrist and gently turning it palm up.

Fleur almost yelped when the crow healer gripped it tightly, pulling it closer to be inspected "What iz this?" The woman asked, tracing a finger on one of the lines.

"My 'and" she answered somewhat dumbly, still reeling with the continued blows that she's receiving.

"Yes, I know its your hand but what of this line? It should not be like that"

Leaning forward, Fleur stared hard but cannot, for the life of her, perceive what was so different.

"This mark and path will _only_ appear when you have something unfinished to do... a mission or... a life debt"

"A life debt?" Her maman gasped in astonishment. She turned swiftly back to Fleur "Fleu-"

"Yes, a life debt"

"Oh no..."

"Do you have some unpaid debts, my dear?" The healer asked softly, correctly assuming that Fleur was literally at the end of the tether with these revelations.

"Oui" She nodded "'Arry saved my sister during the Triwizard tournament and then saved me once again from a direct attack"

The crow healer looked excited and sorrowful at the same time. She let of Fleur's hand and leaned back to observe her. "You mean to tell me that not only is 'Arry Potter acknowledged stronger by your magic but zat your life itself is a debt to him?"

"Oui" Bowed head once again and Fleur could feel tears wanting to spill from behind too dry eyes.

The healer sat up straight once again and tilted her chin up, "This is my diagnosis now. It iz your magic that prevents you from conceiving because of the combination of these three factors. First, your Bill is not as unaffected by your allure as you want to believe, making him less than ideal mate for Veela. Second, your magic as a wizard and Veela are in accordance that someone out there is actually stronger and more compatible. And finally in my opinion, the most damming is the life debt. With Veela and the current legal system still against our race giving that resistance a certain push, overall ensured that you will never be pregnant with your husband."

With that result, Fleur actually heard a ringing in her ears before she fainted.

...

**End of Chapter 2**


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